One Girl's Dream
by Atlas Shrugging
Summary: Eleanor is done with Rapture, but is Rapture done with her? Stay tuned as Eleanor tries to make a life for herself on the surface. Rated M for language and violence.
1. The Surface

**(A/N: This is my intro chapter to the story. I used the ending where Delta kills Lamb, but saved every Little Sister. I have a lot going on in my life, but I will try to update when possible, so check back every now and then. As for the M rating, I plan on cranking up the violence and language in the next chapters. I hope to take this story in interesting directions and do justice to the Bioshock story arc. Please review, I'm very open to criticism as long as it's constructive; or comment, tell me what you think should happen. Finally, I own no part of Bioshock, although I wish I was responsible for creating such a rich storyline. That's all I have to say for now, so sit back and enjoy.)**

Eleanor looked out at the pristine sunset in the distance, dark blue waves lapping gently against the hull of the bathysphere. The horizon melted together, blue on blue, with the only landmark being the lighthouse denoting the entrance into Rapture.

_Rapture_

She had escaped, but it had been a hollow victory. Father was dead. She had absorbed his ADAM in an attempt to retain his essence. Whether it was successful, or in what capacity it would manifest itself, remained to be seen.

To rid herself of the grief building in her chest, she turned her mind to the problem at hand.

She was currently stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, along with the rest of her Sisters. She had come across some emergency rations and fresh water in a small watertight cabinet on the pod, but those would only last for a day or two with all of the girls. She could swim to shore, but she couldn't think of a way to bring her Sisters with her, and leaving them behind was out of the question.

Unable to find an immediate solution to her problems, she resigned herself to lying on the pod, looking at the stars for the first time, keeping watch while her Sisters slept below. Eleanor thought that without Mother the family would be too caught up in a power struggle to care about her or her Sisters, but she wasn't about to take that chance.

As Eleanor sat there, wondering at the beauty of the heavens, she thought of the future. She had no idea what she would do once she reached the mainland. She had always assumed that Father and her would settle down and live a normal life, free from splicers, doing whatever it was that mainlanders did for fun. Now that was a distant dream, thanks to Mother. Eleanor had killed Lamb, but not out of desire for revenge. She had and still loved Mother, but after what she did to Father and everyone else in Rapture, she had to be stopped so she could never hurt anyone again.

There was one thing that Eleanor was certain of. She needed to get her Sisters home. They had been unjustly taken, ripped away from caring families. Even if Eleanor couldn't be together with either of her parents, she could never wish that fate on anyone else.

Satisfied to have at least some semblance of a plan, Eleanor let her mind wander, and was soon asleep.

Eleanor woke early the next day to the sound of an engine in the distance. She had always been a light sleeper, everyone in Rapture was. If you didn't wake up immediately, you usually didn't wake up at all.

She instinctively went into a combat stance, low center of gravity, weight evenly distributed, and her ADAM extractor at the ready. As she opened her eyes to locate the source of the sound, the sunlight, it was so much brighter than anything she had ever seen in Rapture, blinded her and made her curse.

She desperately tried to will her eyes open, but it was too painful. She turned around, away from the sun, tried again, and succeeded. She stood there as her eyes watered painfully, trying to adjust to the light, taking stock of her situation.

She could feel the heat of the sun radiating on her back. The hull of the bathysphere felt slick under her boots. She could use that to her advantage if it came to a fight. The smell salt water filled her nostrils. She listened to the sound again. It was definitely an engine, slowly getting closer. Finally, she turned around, squinting against the sun, trying to distinguish the origin of the sound.

There it was, a boat, puttering slowly through the water. _It's a fishing boat. _The thought floated through her head like an air bubble through water. It surprised Eleanor. She had only seen boats in pictures, but had no idea what they were used for. As soon as she looked at the boat; however, it seemed obvious. The nets on the side were for catching fish.

She instantly knew that this must be one of the side effects of the ADAM injections Mother had been giving her. She pushed all of her thoughts aside; she would worry about it later. For now, she needed to focus on getting rescued.


	2. The Exodus

**(A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter, things have been rather busy. Thanks again to all of you who have been patient and are still reading this. Hopefully, now that things have calmed down a little, I'll be able to update more regularly. Again, please don't forget to comment and review.)**

Eleanor walked across the bathysphere, grabbing her diving helmet as she went. She put it onto her head, locking it in place. As she reached the side, she gracefully dove off into the water.

The cold water shocked her through her dive suit. ADAM began to course through her veins and the Fountain of Youth tonic activated, warming her and giving her strength. She had never felt this strong before. Father's ADAM had added considerably to her overall total. She started swimming, the boat getting closer each second.

It was an old fishing trawler, with rust pitting the hull. The captain's cabin stood at the fore of the boat, overlooking the sea. A system of pulleys connected the nets to a crane mounted on the center of the boat. The roar of the engine drowned out all other sound.

As she drew level with the vessel, Eleanor grabbed the netting that hung over the side of the hull and began to pull herself up the side, water dripping from her suit and helmet. She peered over the side, hoping that no one would notice her. A few seconds later, she felt a cold ripple down her spine as Natural Camouflage kicked in.

Everyone on board was hard at work, rigging and setting nets. The two fishermen nearest her were talking in hushed tones.

"I can 't believe that the captain gets to sit all warm and cozy in his cabin while we're freezing our asses off down here." said the first.

"Well, he does own the boat," replied the second, "If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't even have this job. You managed to get us kicked of the last boat after getting wasted and starting a brawl, you asshole."

"Hey! He started it," retorted the first, "I was just protecting myself."

They continued to bicker, but Eleanor's thoughts were elsewhere. She knew what she needed to know.

Eleanor focused her attention on the captain's cabin. She could see the captain at the wheel. He was busy minding gauges and readouts from the ship's instrumentation. She concentrated and felt space bend around her as she activated her Teleport plasmid.

She reappeared in the cabin, a few feet behind the captain. Hearing the noise, the captain turned around in surprise, just in time to receive a globule of the Hypnotize plasmid to the face.

"Listen to me," said Eleanor calmly, with a soothing tone in her voice, "You will continue on your present course and encounter an unusual submersible. You will then allow everyone onboard to take refuge on your ship. We will all sail to the nearest landmass, and you will tell no one of this."

"But I must … tell someone," he replied, struggling to shrug off the plasmid, "It could be a Communist trick."

Eleanor added 'Communist' to the list of the many things that she needed to learn about the surface.

"No, there's no need for that," she whispered, trying to calm him, "The bathysphere only has children, there's no one else there."

He sat there for a few more seconds, twitching as the plasmid soaked into his brain. Finally, his eyes glassed over and he replied in a monotone, "I will do as you wish." Then he shook his head a few times and went back to manning the helm, as if nothing had happened.

Eleanor quickly teleported back to the outside of the hull, and within seconds was swimming furiously back to the bathysphere.

She made good time, arriving well before the ship. She undressed, stuffing her diving suit, helmet, and ADAM extractor inside a duffel bag that she had found. She then dressed herself in Mother's clothing, having had the foresight to save them before disposing of the body.

She woke her Sisters and prepared them for the trip, helping them pack the few toys they had with them. She assured them that they would get food on the boat and that they would see their families soon.

_We are all orphans of Rapture_

Eleanor stepped out on the hull of the bathysphere just as the trawler pulled astride. The crew dropped anchor and a gangplank was put in place.

The crew gave all of them strange looks, wondering how in the world so many children managed to strand themselves this far from shore. They also looked suspiciously at the bathysphere, having never seen such a craft before. Many of the crew also stared at the lighthouse, innocently lighting the way to hell.

The captain came aboard, showing no signs of being hypnotized. He looked about at all of the Little Sisters and examined the bathysphere. Finally, he turned to Eleanor.

"Hello little lady," he addressed her, "You seem to be in a bit of a fix."

"Yes, thank goodness that you've come," replied Eleanor, trying to appear innocent and afraid, "We're starving and desperately in need of transportation back to the shore. I hate to think what might have become of us if you hadn't come along."

"Well, you have nothing to fear now lass. Come on aboard. I'm sure we can find something for all of you to eat and a spare cot to sleep in."

Eleanor thanked the captain and took the girls aboard. They were shown to a room with a few spare cots spread across the floor. It wasn't much, but it was better than starving on the bathysphere.

Later they were all given a soup of fish and potatoes in a watery broth and some stale bread. Food was being rationed after the arrival of the surprise guests.

After supper, Eleanor took out her duffel bag, donning her diving suit and attaching the ADAM extractor to her arm. She left the children to their own devices, telling them that she would be back soon.

She crept out onto the deck, avoiding the few sailors that were still awake. As she neared the railing of the ship, her ADAM enhanced ears overheard some conversation coming from the captain's cabin. She cautiously approached the door and peered in through the porthole.

The captain was arguing with another man, probably the first mate. Both seemed rather upset.

"… They could be dangerous," continued the first mate, "No telling who they are or where they came from."

"Would you calm down," the captain retorted looking agitated, "They're just children, for God's sake. What harm could they possibly pose us?"

I don't know, but something just doesn't seem right. How did they end up all the way out in the middle of the ocean? And what about that craft? I've never seen the like of it before. It looks like some prototype submersible. More importantly, did you see the fucking lighthouse sticking out of the middle of the ocean? We need to tell someone about this."

The captain started to break out in a sweat and his face turned flushed. He seemed torn, wanting to say something, but unable.

Eleanor cursed. The captain was trying to fight the Hypnotize plasmid. Obviously the minds of surface dwellers were not as weak and easily swayed as those of the ADAM addicts of Rapture, happy to agree with anyone as long as their habits were accommodated. It was still futile of course, but he was attracting an unfortunate amount of attention from the first mate, who was afraid that the captain was having some of stroke.

She burst in, nailing both of them with the Hypnotize plasmid. She then repeated her previous orders, stressing that no one was to be told of her, her sisters, or the bathysphere. As she left, she again cursed her bad luck. If this kept up, she would have to hypnotize the whole damn ship.

Remembering that she still had business to attend to, she slipped back to the railing. She looked around one more time to make sure that no one was watching, and then jumped overboard.

Even with her ADAM enhanced muscles, it took her awhile to reach the bathysphere. She climbed aboard, opened the hatch and descended within. She couldn't take the risk of anyone finding the bathysphere.

Eleanor wielded her ADAM extractor like a saber, slicing through the hull and electrical components like butter. Alarms shrieked only to be silenced as Eleanor activated Incinerate and set everything on fire. The bathysphere started taking on copious amounts of water, putting out most of the flames, but the damage had already been done.

Eleanor watched from close to the surface as the bathysphere sank into the depths of the ocean, being reclaimed by Rapture. She hoped that with luck, the splicers would think that everyone had failed to make it to the surface and perished in the bathysphere. She doubted it, but it was worth a shot.

Content that she had done everything that she was capable of to protect both her and the world from Rapture, she surfaced and began her long swim back.


	3. Parker's Dream

**(A/N: For this chapter, I wanted to take a look at the way that Rapture was affected by the events of Bioshock 2. Thanks again to everyone who has been patiently waiting for me to update. Don't forget to comment and review, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving.)**

Deep within the ruins of Rapture, a poor tormented soul cried out. It sat on the moth-eaten sofa of a long since abandoned apartment, the wallpaper peeling and water dripping from the ceiling, tears running down its scarred face.

It had once been known as Parker, an average railway worker living in Pauper's Drop, but those days were long gone. It could still vaguely remember a time when Rapture had been a paradise, the streets filled with people chatting to one another as they went about their business. It remembered the smell of popcorn in Fort Frolic, while artists from all across the world entertained the masses. Most of all, it remembered the light.

Even though it didn't need light to see in its current state, it could never forget the light, its warmth, and the glorious way that it illuminated everything around. It often wished that it could stand under one of the few remaining lampposts and bask in its glow. Doing so, however, especially nowadays, was a death sentence.

It could still remember the day that the innocence of Rapture died. It had been long coming, corruption eating away at the heart and soul of Rapture, until there was nothing left but Ryan and Fontaine. Those bastards ruined a thing of beauty, a precious work of art, destroyed by their greed.

It remembered how it had felt when it heard the news of the civil war. Anger and grief had swelled in its chest until it felt that it was going to explode. Then, it heard the screams as son turned against son, daughter against daughter.

_They were all children of Rapture._

At first it had hidden, but as the days dragged on and the fighting intensified, food began to run out. It had had no choice but to splice.

It had begun as one plasmid, just for protection, but the hunger for ADAM began to set in. Soon it could not stand it any longer. It hunted, gathering ADAM, and then spliced again, quelling the hunger, for a time. This vicious cycle continued, as it had with so many others, until Parker was gone.

The war finally ended. Ryan had won, but everyone else, including his followers, had lost. All of the splicers retreated into their addictions, secluding themselves as much as possible so as not to see their deformities reflected on so many other faces.

It tried so hard, for so long, to keep its awareness, to not give into the hunger that filled every waking moment with excruciating agony. It still felt the fury and the anger at the men who had bled Rapture dry. That rage helped it stay in reality, clinging on by a thread. It still needed ADAM to survive, but gathered the bare minimum, just enough to keep from going completely over the edge. It schemed for years, but to no avail. Ryan fed the splicers and had therefore had their protection, while Fontaine was nowhere to be found.

Then, one day, all of its prayers were answered. It heard from the few splicers that it kept in contact with that Ryan and Fontaine were dead. A genetically enhanced clone, named Jack, had killed them all.

From that day on, it worshiped Jack like a god. Jack was everything that it wanted to be. Jack had come into Rapture alone, freed all of the Little Sisters, taken down Fontaine and Ryan, and used more plasmids and gene tonics than Parker had ever dared, all the while still remaining sane.

No one was quite sure how Jack had managed to splice so much without changing. Some thought that it was the fact that he had been bred to splice, while others thought that he was insane to begin with, and therefore immune to the effects of splicing. Parker thought it was something else. He knew there was something different about Jack, but he just couldn't quite understand what.

Whatever the reason was, Jack had done more than survive Rapture; he had thrived. And, when he had all the power and ADAM he could ever want, he left. He walked away from something that any other man would've killed for. That is what made Jack Ryan special.

Then, Sofia Lamb came. From the first time that she spoke, it knew that it was in love. Sofia also held Jack in high regard, and she knew the importance of what he had done.

"Jack accomplished something great," she preached to a crowd once, "He rid Rapture of its tyranny and corruption, allowing us to build something greater. He survived down here for one reason, because he had something to live for. He lived for Tenenbaum and the Little Sisters. If we walk in his footsteps, by living for each other, I believe that we can find utopia."

The next years were the best of its life. It followed Lamb's creed to the letter, devoting its life to the service of The Family. Together, they had begun to create something wonderful. Rapture was returning to its former glory. There was less fighting, ADAM was plentiful, and Lamb had plans to rebuild Rapture.

Fate, however, had other plans. Sofia's bitch of a daughter and her Big Daddy, Johnny Topside, had come along and ruined everything. With many of their number dead, their supply of ADAM quickly running dry, The Family recommenced their petty squabbles.

It had held onto the hope that Sofia would return, that she would restore order, that the rebuilding of Rapture could recommence. That is, until yesterday.

Yesterday, it went out scavenging for ADAM, having finally exhausted the ration provided by Lamb. It was then that its worst fears were confirmed. As it walked through one of the glass tunnels of Rapture, fish and other animals swimming all around, it saw its one true love. Sofia's corpse was plastered against the tunnel ceiling, her eyes wide in horror.

The events of the last few weeks had been too much for it. It had seen its dream destroyed for a second time. It knew something had broken inside of it, something that could not be fixed.

It felt empty. Even as it sat there, it felt the sadness leave it. All that was left was a hallow feeling inside. Only one thing remained, revenge.

Parker, the poor soul that had retreated far into the recesses of the wretched creature's mind so long ago, awoke. He had decided to take action. There was no Jack to swoop in and make everything as it once was, only him. He realized then and there why the splicers stagnated in Rapture. It was because they cared for only themselves. He would be different. Whereas Jack cared for others, Parker would care for no one, not even himself.

As he stood, walking from the room, he knew he would make them pay. Splicers, mainlanders, anyone that stood in his way would be crushed beneath his feet. Eleanor and her "Father" would beg for mercy. And, just like his love Sophia, they would receive none.

The Rapture dream had ended, but Parker's dream was just beginning.


	4. Angel

As the trawler entered the harbor the girls hung on the rails, giggling with excitement, taking in their first view of the surface in several years. The dock was in a perpetual state of frenzy with people running from place to place. The smell of rotting fish and sea salt overwhelmed the senses and the cold spray of the sea chilled them to the bone.

The rest of the voyage since their departure from Rapture had been uneventful. The sailors had been kind and caring to the girls, having not seen their own children since their trip began. Eleanor, on the other hand, had kept to herself for most of the journey, speaking only if spoken to.

She had, however, been making an attempt to better understand the mainland. She had eavesdropped on several of the crew's conversations using her superior hearing. From what she had gathered, there was currently a war on between an area called the United States of America, a capitalist state similar to that of Ryan's philosophy, and a smaller faction out east. There had also been talk of an arms race between this United States and another area, called the Soviet Union, utilizing ideals similar to that of Lamb's.

Eleanor, although upset over these events, could not help but find the irony in the situation. She had hoped that the surface would be a more rational place than that of Rapture, but she had been wrong. It was still the same old story, the power hungry leading the masses on with empty promises. And the death, how insane the amount of death was on the surface! She had almost collapsed when she heard the numbers.

Eleanor stood back a few paces from the girls, calmly observing the scene. According to the sailors, who had been nice enough to provide her with a map, they had finally arrived in Penzance, a city in the United Kingdom. Several of the girls' parents supposedly lived nearby, so this was where they would begin.

The girls walked down the gangway to the dock below, waving goodbye to the sailors. Before Eleanor could begin her descent, the captain walked towards her, arms outstretched. Her heart started racing. She couldn't figure out what he was doing. Was he going to attack her? As she stood there, poised to react, he reached out to her and gave her a hug.

Eleanor stiffened, unsure what to do. Even Father had never given her a hug before. It felt strangely good, as if he was trying to tell her that everything was going to be ok. Sensing her discomfort, the captain quickly withdrew his arms. He looked at her with concern.

"Are you sure there isn't anything more we can do to aid you lass?" he said.

"I'm sure," she replied, trying to reassure him, "You all have been more welcoming than I could've ever hoped, and for that I thank you."

"Then take this," he said, taking the brass cross from around his neck and dropping it into her hand, "I think you may be needing God more than I."

She thanked him again and bid him and the crew farewell. As she descended the gangplank, she pocketed the cross. She knew that the captain was just trying to help in his own way, but she couldn't turn to God. If there was a God, he had forsaken every single person in Rapture, and for that she could never forgive him.

She might not believe in God, but she did believe in people. Even with all of the suffering she'd seen, she couldn't help thinking that the world couldn't be all bad as long as there were people like those sailors.

* * *

Eleanor and the girls walked quickly along an alleyway. Graffiti covered the walls, with trash and dirt strewn across the ground. Rain poured off the sides of the adjacent building and pooled in holes in the cement. It had begun raining as soon as they left the dock, and they were trying to find a place to take shelter from the rain. One of the older Little Sisters, Theresa, had remembered that she had an aunt that lived nearby and had offered to lead the way there.

As they neared the end of the alley, what Eleanor had thought was a pile of rags stood up. It was a man covered in an assortment of clothing, all of which appeared to be torn in some manner. He was middle-aged, covered in dirt, with graying black hair and a beard. He had black eyes that seemed to pierce the soul and rotting teeth showing in his gruesome smile.

The man turned toward them and took a step forward. He drew a rusty switchblade from within one of the several dirty overcoats that he wore.

"I don't wanna hurt y'all," he said in an almost crooning tone, "Just hand over what ya' got and there'll be no need for trouble." Eleanor placed herself in front of her Sisters, now only a few paces from the stranger.

"Sir, we don't have anything of value with us," Eleanor pleaded, "We're just looking for our aunt. If you would be so kind as to let us pass, we'll be on our way. Please, we don't want any trouble."

"Nothing of value ya' say," the man cackled, "I don't believe ya'. Even if I did, your much to pretty a catch to just let prance on by. No, I think I'll have a little fun with ya', I will." He took another step forward as he said this.

The girls took a step back, cowering, but Eleanor stood her ground.

"If that's they way you're going to be, then I have no choice but to force you to let us pass." She said sternly as she took a ready stance.

"A fighter eh?" he said, grinning, " That's good. I like 'em feisty."

He lunged forward with the switchblade, aiming for Eleanor's torso. She twisted out of the way, grabbing his hand. She brought her elbow down on his forearm and felt it snap. The man let out a howl and stepped back. Eleanor thrust her hands out before her, using the Telekinesis plasmid. The man flew back into the alleyway, bricks and bones cracking under the strain. She switched to Electro Bolt and lightning arced across the alleyway, striking the man and dancing through the puddles. He screamed, the smell of burned flesh filled the air, and then he was still.

Eleanor quickly grabbed the body and teleported with it to a secluded outcropping that she had noticed earlier that day when the trawler had been approaching the docks. She dragged his body across the ground and, with a heave, threw it off the edge and into the water. Satisfied that the body was sinking properly, she turned around and teleported back.

The girls were standing there, on the verge of crying, unsure what to do. Eleanor began coaxing them onward, whispering reassuring words to them. They quickly began to calm down again, but still appeared agitated.

Eleanor began to think about the man as they continued walking. She felt remorse for killing him. She did not, however feel guilt. He had chosen to turn to a life of crime and, as Father had taught her, the guilty should not be shown mercy.

It had begun to get dark, the rain had stopped and the stars were out. As much as Eleanor wanted to stop and stare, she knew that she must stay on task. As they approached the end of a street Theresa let out a squeal.

"Here we are," Theresa said excitedly, "My auntie lives in that building there." She jumped up and down, pointing to a small house across the street. The house was very modest, a single story with a small garage attached. The lights were on in the house, and the shadows of two figures could be seen in the dining room, possibly Theresa's aunt and uncle having dinner together.

Eleanor told the other girls to wait there while she approached the house with Theresa. They walked up the drive together, hand in hand, and stepped up the stairs to the porch. Eleanor hugged Theresa, whispered goodbye to her, rung the doorbell, and walked off the porch and around the side of the house.

She heard the scraping of a chair against the floor and then steps as someone walked towards the door. It creaked open, and Theresa's aunt gave a yell of surprise as she saw her niece standing in the doorway.

"Sweetheart, where have you been? How did you get here?" her aunt screamed, wrapping her arms around the girl.

"I've been away auntie," Theresa said, just as Eleanor had told her to, "Eleanor helped me come home."

"Eleanor? Who's Eleanor?" asked her aunt.

"My sister. She just left now," replied Theresa.

Her aunt looked around and Eleanor was once again thankful for Active Camouflage. "Thank you," Theresa's aunt yelled into the night, "God bless you, whoever you are, you're an angel."

Theresa's aunt rushed her in and closed the door. Eleanor stepped back out of her hiding spot and rejoined the children. _I'm not an angel_ thought Eleanor, _I'm just a girl who understands what it feels like to not have parents._


	5. The Beginning Again

**(A/N: I'm really sorry to all of you who've been waiting so patiently for my update while I've been procrastinating. I've been really busy but I hope to start updating more frequently than usual. As always I can't offer any promises, it just depends on what life throws my way. Regardless, I hope you like this chapter and I look forward to your comments and reviews.)**

One year later…

Parker sat in one of the decaying booths of the Fishbowl Diner in Pauper's Drop, casually drinking a soda under the dimly flickering lights. Parker always drank soda when it felt the urge to splice increase; it felt it took the edge off. A jukebox crooned sultry tunes from its crackling speakers, stuttering every now and again as it hit cracks in the disc.

It had made this diner the center of its operation, due to both the diner's accessibility and the look of almost normality about it. If only the interior was taken into account, the diner could have belonged to any rundown town topside. It was there; however, that the similarities ended. Splicers sat at other booths examining reports, often written on the backs of any grubby piece of paper that could be found. Messengers ran in and out periodically, delivering news about the states of various parts of Rapture.

Parker had spent the better part of the year forming the command structure. It had first approached the few splicers that it kept in contact with, offering them the remainder of its ADAM supply in exchange for their allegiance and the promise of more to come. It had been a process of trial and error. Several of those it had regarded as good acquaintances -the word friend was meaningless in Rapture- had needed to be terminated, either when they became too greedy or tried to take advantage of Parker, while others whom Parker had regarded as unusable had risen to the call when they saw a possible way to benefit themselves.

Parker had started small, harvesting sea slugs from the bottom of the ocean using splicers in dive suits or Hypnotized Big Daddies. From there, it had built its network, slowly expanding, like a vine choking the life out a tree, until it had the largest faction in Rapture.

Several splicers still refused to submit to Parker, hidden within Rapture's complex sewer systems and apartments, but they were only nuisance, currently being hunted and exterminated by squads of highly trained and dangerous splicers under Parker's control. The real problem was the dwindling supply of ADAM. The few caches of ADAM Parker had found had long since gone dry and the abundance of the sea slugs were fast dwindling, leaving a deficiency in the ADAM supplies of its coalition.

Parker was no fool. It knew that it only ruled as long as it supplied everyone with enough ADAM to fill their addiction, and even then their allegiances were unstable. Parker had decided to take a step forward. It had sent several scouts to the surface in order to again kidnap girls to establish the new forces of Little Sisters, as well as several denizens of the surface to form a supply of ADAM.

As Parker finished its soda, a splicer entered the diner and approached Parker's booth. The splicer's name was Eddy. He was stunningly ugly, even by splicer standards. Most of his face had been melted away by a flamethrower, leaving beady, black, sunken eyes and what might have once been a nose, mouth, and ears in its place. He was dressed in an extremely dirty tuxedo with a wilting flower from Arcadia pinned to the pocket. He constantly boasted about the flower, claiming that he had mowed down over ten Houdini splicers to retrieve it, although sources told Parker that he had taken it off an already dead splicer.

When Parker had recruited Eddy, the man had shown great promise, bribing and backstabbing his way up the ranks, until he was one of Parker's top lieutenants. Lately, however, he had been getting greedy, taking bribes on the side for extra ADAM and food rations. Parker wouldn't have minded, except that Eddy hadn't reported these activities to him. In order to test his loyalties, Parker had put Eddy in charge of the Little Sister project. If Eddy made a move for power, it would be now, when the possibility of gaining a renewable source of ADAM was the greatest.

"Sir, I have news," croaked Eddy, his voice as rough as his face, "we have managed to capture three girls and they are currently undergoing transformation. I have the surgeon's word that they will all survive the procedure."

"Job well done, Eddy," replied Parker, "Next we shall begin gathering the necessary materials for ADAM production. Once we have sufficient stockpiles of ADAM, we will be able to begin our search for Topside and the girl on the surface."

"But sir," growled Eddy, "why all of the secrecy? We are more than capable of taking out anything that the surface can throw at us. They may have the superior numbers, but we are more advanced by a hundred fold."

The diner went quiet as the challenge was issued. Perhaps Eddy's brain cells had been too charred by the flamethrower to actually understand what he had just done, or possibly he had become bored of playing middle man, thinking that he could take on the less spliced opponent. Regardless, this was a defining moment. Parker could offer leniency, allowing for more freethinking in the army, but it could not take the risk. Any show of weakness just made it more of a target than it already was.

Bruce, Parker's brute splicer bodyguard, also sensed the danger and took a step forward, muscles bulging and knuckles cracking, but Parker stopped him with its hand. Parker could not be seen as reliant on anyone, Bruce was a last resort.

"It's quite alright Bruce," crooned Parker, smiling, "Our friend is entitled to his opinion."

Parker took a step towards, hands outstretched, as if to embrace Eddy. He looked taken aback, expecting Parker to fight back or at least shout. Then he raised his hands also. Stupid as he was, Eddy was not about to offend his commander, especially not after he had just seemingly given away his command without a fight.

As Eddy stepped forward to return the embrace, Parker swiftly drew a concealed dagger and slit Eddy's throat. Eddy gurgled, trying to speak, surprise written on every part of his face that was not previously charred, sunken eyes wide. Then, just as swiftly, he crumpled to the ground, clutching his throat, twitching and gurgling, as a pool of crimson blood spread on the floor, soaking through his clothes.

Parker stepped over Eddy, careful not to get blood on his shoes, still smiling, as if nothing had happened.

"Now that that little bit of unpleasantness is behind us, perhaps we can all get back to work." Parker said, giving a significant look to everyone in the booth who had been standing, looking to see whom the victor would be.

Instantaneously, the diner once again became a flurry of activity. As someone came forward to collect the body, Parker halted him.

"Leave it," it ordered, "I'll deal with it myself."


	6. Superhero

**(A/N: Time for another update. I decided that the story would flow better and be more interesting if I jumped ahead to after Eleanor has returned all of the Sisters to their homes. I'm already working on the next chapter and should have it up in the next week or two if I don't procrastinate/get distracted. As always, let me know what you think and have a good time reading.)**

Eleanor stood on the top of one of Boston's many apartment complexes, letting the cool, salty wind of the bay whip through her hair, the great weight of responsibility temporarily falling from her shoulders. She had finally accomplished what she had set out to do. Every single Little Sister had been returned to their family. Just today she had reunited Cindy Meltzer with her mother, who had moved to Boston after losing her daughter.

It had been anything but easy. Eleanor had spent most of her time in homeless shelters or slums, getting the odd job or begging to pay for transportation and food for the children, often walking. It had been worth it to see each sister rejoin their families, many of whom had long given up hope of ever seeing them again.

Along the way, she had seen many of the wonders that the surface had to offer, such a vibrant of diversities of culture and language. She also began to see the differences between Rapture and the surface. For each person who would turn her away at night, or refuse to give her or her sisters anything to eat, there were always several more people willing to open up their homes to these perfect strangers in need. The longer she lived above, the more she couldn't fathom the motives of those who called Rapture home. Why would anyone separate themselves from such a wonderful world?

Interestingly enough, she had noticed that as she got farther away from the Little Sisters, she could still sense them, like a small light burning in the distance. She believed that it was a result of some residual conditioning. Even if she didn't understand why or how this newfound ability worked, it had become damn useful, allowing her to use her sisters as coordinates for the Teleportation plasmid and giving her a worldwide teleportation network.

She had also found that she was able to tell if any of them were in danger and teleport instantly to each sister's side; something she had discovered after she suddenly found herself in the streets of Amsterdam pushing one of the girls out of the way of an oncoming car. As she looked out over the sea, she could feel all of her sisters in the distance, all content, all at peace. She felt their warmth suffuse her and she was whole. The warmth vanished, however, as she turned her thoughts inward.

Eleanor's one great purpose had been fulfilled, and she was left wondering what she was meant for now. She had, for a moment, entertained the thought of giving everything up and starting a new, normal life, but it had just been a flight of fancy, a fleeting dream on the wind. She knew fully well that she could never have a normal life, not after knowing what lurked out there, deep under the oceans

This last thought struck a chord somewhere deep within her, and at that moment Eleanor knew that that was exactly what she must do. She must prevent the tragedy of Rapture from ever reoccurring. She must stop the denizens or mentality of Rapture from gaining a hold on the surface, and attempt to keep this new world she had discovered as pure as possible. She chuckled as she recalled an old Superman comic; comparing him, the glimmering light to all that is good and a straight moral compass, to herself, the uncertain teenager with unknown abilities in a dive suit.

The laughter died as soon as she realized that she had never read a comic book. Was it another memory from the ADAM? It couldn't hurt to search for Tenenbaum while she was doing all of this superheroing. If anyone would know what was happening to her, it was Tenenbaum.

No time to start like the present. Eleanor turned away from the bay, looking out at the city, lit by streetlights and storefronts with skyscrapers peppered in between. She jumped from rooftop to rooftop, using her ADAM-strengthened legs to propel herself inhuman distances.

As she shot over an alley, lit only by the residual light leaking in from the adjacent streets, she heard someone cry out. Eleanor twisted her body in mid-air, turning her jump into acrobatic maneuver that landed her noiselessly upside-down on a pipe mounted to the side of the building, which she proceeded to scale downward towards the ground.

Her eyes, with the assistance of her ADAM, quickly cut through the darkness to reveal the situation. A kid, about Eleanor's age, stood with his back to Eleanor, holding his hands up, a bike and grocery bags neglected on the ground at his side. In front of him stood a man with tattered clothes and unkempt hair, tattoos lacing his face, a gun in his hand.

"Give me everything you got, punk!" the man was shouting, gesturing at the bike and the bags with the gun.

"Take it easy, man." the kid replied soothingly, "Just take what you want and go."

Eleanor saw red. Even though the tenants of the building could blatantly hear the man's shouting through open windows on the building, they chose not to get involved, rather sitting back and letting events unfold. As she reached the ground, she flipped again, landing feet first in a particularly nasty-smelling patch of garbage hidden in the shadows. She was just about to step into the light, where they could see her, when she hesitated.

I have to be smart about this, she thought. If I'm not subtle, things could get out of hand quickly, and then I'll be spending a long time trying to explain why a teenage girl can shoot fire out of her hands.

She walked forward into the light, trying to smile and seem unconcerned.

"Hey!" she shouted the greeting towards the two of them, causing them to jump with fright.

"Back off, bitch!" the man shouted, brandishing his gun, "Go back the way you came, or you won't live to regret it."

"Take it easy, I'm sure we can work something out." she replied, readying the Hypnotize Plasmid in a hand behind her back.

The kid stepped in front of her, blocking the gun's line of fire. "Stop! Don't shoot!"

Damnit! Why couldn't this kid be a spineless coward like everyone else she'd ever met? With him in the way, she couldn't guarantee that she could Hypnotize the man before he fired. Normally it wouldn't matter, she'd taken worse than a bullet before, but the kid was another story. Time for Plan B.

She quickly placed two Double Cyclone Traps on either building, one step in front of the thug.

"Why don't you come over here and fight me like a man?" she goaded as she smoothly pushed the kid out of the way.

"Oh it's on now, bitch." he said as he walked forward, directly into the traps.

He gave a high-pitched squeak as the traps triggered, their forces canceling each other out, effectively crushing him in place. Bones cracked, blood spurted from his nose, the veins in his neck bulged and he fainted instantly. Eleanor lightly kicked him while he was still on his feet, causing him to fall in a heap on the trash littered ground. Hopefully the combination of low lighting and shock would keep the kid from looking to closely and assume she knocked him out with the kick.

"Wow, that was awesome!" the kid exclaimed, "I think you just might have saved my life."

"Don't mention it." Eleanor said dismissively, not turning as she walked away, careful to tread on the unconscious thug.

"Wait, where are you going? I don't even know your name." he yelled after her.

Eleanor stopped, turning towards him. Now that the danger had passed, she was able to take a better look at whom it was she had just saved. He was actually quite handsome, thin and fit with blue eyes and golden brown hair the color of amber. He was wearing a hooded jacket to guard against the cold, with fit jeans and brown sneakers, now streaked with dirt and trash.

"My name is Eleanor Lamb." she said, before turning and exiting the alleyway.


	7. The Emergence

**(A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for such a long time. I've been really busy with school and college apps. I can't say when the next update will be, just that this story is _not_ dead and that I will continue to update at my own pace. Thanks to all of you who still read this, you guys are awesome. Don't forget to review so I can continue to improve and enjoy the chapter.)**

Rory had to see her again. Ever since the night that she had walked into his life, exiting just as swiftly, he had been unable to get her off his mind. Her flowing raven hair, blending in with the darkness of the alley, her pale skin, giving her an almost ephemeral appearance, and her blue eyes, piercing the night like a lighthouse. Those five words, 'My name is Eleanor Lamb', had been haunting him ever since that night.

Rory had tried everything, the phone book, his friends at school, writers at the newspaper that he delivered as a side job; no one had heard of this girl. He was sure he would recognize Eleanor if he saw her again. She was hard not to notice, as pale as she was, not to mention the fact that she was wearing some sort of space suit getup. The real problem was finding her again. Without an address or any other information except her name, she would be next to impossible to find again, Boston was a huge place.

Unable to do anything more to find her, he had begun to ride past the alleyway in which they had met as often as possible; before school, after school, during his paper route, when he went to get groceries, and any other time he had an excuse. Most of his friends thought he was insane, insisting on riding in the alley that he was almost mugged in less than a week ago just so he had a chance of meeting some girl again. He had to agree with them, but he couldn't give up the hope that she might frequent that dismal place again.

Then, one day, his prayers were answered. As he rode through his paper route, he saw her exiting an apartment complex on a street corner, although this time she was wearing normal, albeit dated, street clothing. A pinched-faced woman pursued her; both of them were engaged in a heated argument.

"What does it matter if I don't have any money on me?" Eleanor shouted at the woman angrily, scowling, "I am in the process of getting a job. I'll be able to pay rent when it's due."

"I don't care what you might have, I'm not letting you freeload on us without enough cash for first month's rent," the woman replied, face flushed and contorted in rage.

"Well screw you, I'm sure I can find someone with a heart, you shriveled-up old bag."

The woman spun on her heels and returned to the complex, slamming the door behind her.

Rory pedaled furiously towards them, dismounting before the bike had completely come to a stop. Eleanor whirled around, recognition flashing through her eyes as she saw him.

"Hey" he said awkwardly, looking at his feet.

He hadn't given much thought to what he would say to her when he finally found her; the odds had been so astronomical.

"So, how are things?" he added, lamely. "I never really got to thank you properly for saving my life."

"Don't mention it, I was just in the area." she replied, "Although I hope that you've learned to stick to the main roads, especially when you have anything valuable on you."

"Yeah, I don't usually go through the alleys anyway, but I was running late."

"Listen," she said, "I'd love to stay and chat, but it's getting late and I still need to find a place to stay. I'm used to sleeping on the streets, but that doesn't mean I relish the idea."

"Wait!" he shouted as she turned to walk away, "You can come stay at my house until you find an apartment, I owe you that much."

She hesitated, turning back to him, seeming reluctant.

"I really don't wish to impose."

"You wouldn't be, honestly," he replied quickly, "We have a spare room that we've been trying to do something with, and it's the least I can do after what you did for me."

After making it clear that she would only be staying for a few days and extracting a promise from Rory that he'd let her pay for the room, Eleanor agreed to accompany him home.

As they arrived outside his house, Rory slowed to a stop and Eleanor gracefully jumped off of the handlebars of the bike. The house was a small squat two story building, with old brickwork and peeling white paneling. The roof was missing a few tiles and, as Eleanor peered around the house, clothing hung drying on the line in the small backyard. The house was identical to its neighbors, with the exception of a small, fenced garden in the front.

"Well, it's not much, but it's home," said Rory as he padlocked his bike to the garden fence.

"I think it's wonderful," replied Eleanor, smiling slightly as she walked up the steps, onto the porch, and stopped by the doorway.

Rory followed quickly behind, walking around her and opening the door to allow her to enter first.

The entryway of the house was small, but warm and well lit by the buzzing light bulb set in the ceiling. A narrow set of rickety stairs hugged the left wall and traversed upward to the landing above. Further in, Eleanor could see part of the dining room, a small square table with two seats set for dinner. An amazing smell emanated from the same direction, making Eleanor all the more aware of the last time she had eaten a real meal.

"Ah, Rory, there you are," a stern but pleasant voice said from the dining room, the speaker out of Eleanor's line of sight, "You're late, I though you said you'd be home in time to help me with the laundry."

"Sorry mom," replied Rory, walking into the dining room while gesturing for Eleanor to stay put, "I had something that I had to take care of."

"Oh? What was that?" she inquired.

"Um… There's a cousin of a friend from school that I had to help out. She is new in town and her apartment deal fell through, so I told her that she could use Eric's room while she was looking for a new one." Rory began staring at his feet again, looking a lot like a child about to be told off.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Be a gentleman and invite her in. Also, would you fetch one of the spare chairs from the basement, I didn't set the table for a guest."

Eleanor stepped into the dining room as Rory opened a door and dashed down the stairs to the basement. The dining room connected with the kitchen, within which a woman stood at the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. She was a middle-aged woman with grey-streaked brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was thin, with a white, stained apron over jeans and a blue shirt. As she looked over her shoulder to get a better look at Eleanor, Eleanor was able to see her face. She had deep almond brown eyes, full, rose colored, lips, and the beginnings wrinkles on her face that told of both great joy and sorrow.

"Hello dear, we haven't been properly introduced yet," she said, turning from the pot, wiping her hands on the apron, walking towards Eleanor and extending her hand, "I'm Nancy Trace, obviously you've already met my son, Rory."

"Wonderful to meet you Mrs. Trace," Eleanor replied, taking her hand, "Thank you so much for your hospitality while I look for a new place to stay."

"Not at all," dismissed Mrs. Trace with a wave of her hand.

Rory returned from the basement with the chair and the three sat down for dinner. Throughout the meal, Mrs. Trace questioned Eleanor about her life. Eleanor attempted to stay as close to the truth as possible in her answers, relying on Rory to fill in some of the missing details. She told Mrs. Trace that her parents were abroad on business and that they had sent her to Boston to be closer to her aunt and uncle while she finished school.

The soup was the best meal she had eaten in a long time, a combination of beef, carrots, potatoes, and various spices; a fact that was not lost on Mrs. Trace, who constantly insisted on refilling Eleanor's bowl. Finally, once she was completely sure she couldn't take another bite, Eleanor stood up, walked over to the sink near the an ajar window overlooking the small backyard and placed her bowl in the sink.

After once again thanking the pair for their generosity, she allowed herself to be led upstairs by Rory. He turned right, walking down the narrow hallway, the walls adorned with faded flower-patterned wallpaper, until he came to its end. Two doors stood opposite one another on the left and right walls. Rory turned and opened the door on the right, entering the room, Eleanor following right behind.

The room was small and square, a bed by the far wall, lit by a single lamp resting on a bedside table. Although the room was orderly, the bed made, everything in its place, it looked as though no one had lived here for some time. The posters of the Beatles, comic heroes, and models on the walls had begun to peel, the many fantasy, sci-fi, and comic books gathering a fine layer of dust on the bookshelf against the wall.

"Please don't touch that!" Rory exclaimed, reaching out a hand as Eleanor walked forward to examine one of the posters. "This is my brother's room. He's been over in 'Nam for 3 years, fighting the Commies, or so the government says. My mom somehow thinks that if she keeps everything exactly the way it was before he left, that he'll come home safe. She won't let her superstitions keep her from helping someone out, but it would be a lot easier on her if you kept things as close to how they are now as possible."

"Thanks for letting me know," Eleanor replied, smoothly stepping away from the poster.

"Well, if you need anything let me know. My room is the one across from yours…. Goodnight." he finished, lamely, walking to the door and closing it as he exited, leaving Eleanor alone with her thoughts.

She sat softly on the bed, staring out the small window to her right that looked out over the backyard. The clothesline had been emptied of clothes, leaving a thin wire frame stretched taut between two stakes driven into the ground. The sun had long since set in the sky and the moon's glare gave the surroundings a phantasmal appearance.

Eleanor wondered why she had agreed to stay here. Her cover story was only going to get harder to stick by as time went on. Mrs. Trace wasn't an idiot, she'd figure it out sooner or later. The only thing she could think of was Rory. Rory made her feel comfortable in a way that no one else ever had. Besides, if she was truly going to start making a difference here, she would need to know someone who was familiar with the city and its people.

Eleanor saw a flicker out of the corner of her vision. The splicer sprung from the wall, grabbing onto Eleanor with the metal claws, ripping into her chest, staining her dress with her blood. The splicer's inertia picked Eleanor off of her feet and into the air. _Damn it, Active Camouflage goes both ways, _Eleanor managed to think before she hit the window.

The glass shattered, the sound piercing the night. Shards embedded themselves into Eleanor's back, sending stabbing white-hot pain shooting through her back. As they hit the roofing, Eleanor on the bottom, landing awkwardly, she felt something break in her left arm and her pain redoubled. Her vision flickered, going black for a few seconds before returning.

They rolled along the roof, glass shards digging further into Eleanor's back at each rotation. She lashed out with her good arm, punching the splicer in its horribly misshapen face. She heard a crack and its nose gave way, spurting blood over both of them and causing the splicer to open its warped mouth and let out a wailing shriek.

They tumbled over the edge and began plummeting towards the grassy ground of the backyard. Eleanor twisted, flipping the splicer underneath her, kicking out with both of her legs, forcing the splicer's claws out of her chest, splashing more blood, and propelling him towards the ground. The splicer landing expertly on its feet, dodging out of the way as Eleanor followed through with her right fist, creating a crater in the ground, sending grass and dirt flying in all directions.

She grimaced as she felt the ADAM surge through her veins, growing back the skin on her chest and back, popping out glass shards as it went. Her arm twinged as the bone set and knitted back together at the wrong angle, leaving it useless. Eleanor swore, knowing she would have to rebreak it later and set it properly.

The splicer hissed at her, bending its knees and extending its claws, taking a ready stance. Eleanor flicked her wrist, launching an Insect Swarm. The ADAM-modified bees rained upon the splicer viciously stinging its exposed flesh. The splicer screamed, swatting at the insects, attempting to bat them away.

Eleanor took the opening, lunging forward, shooting a small Winter Blast from her right hand. The splicer froze, ice forming around its demented frame. Using her momentum, Eleanor struck the splicer with her fist and foot, shattering it into miniscule ice particles.

Gasping for breath, Eleanor walked over to the lone tree in the backyard, a tall oak. She turned her back towards it and slumped downward, sitting on the ground with her back against the stump. She took a breath, counted to three, and wrenched sideways at the site of the break. Pain flooded through her system again, causing her to tense up in order to avoid crying out. She held it in place until her ADAM-enhanced body once again mended the break, this time in the proper shape.

With that gruesome task out of the way, she was able to set her mind to other things. She needed to clean up her mess in order to avoid arousing suspicion. First, she melted the remaining splicer ice shards with low-level Incinerate! Blast. Next, she did her best to replace the divot she had made in the ground, gathering what dirt and grass she could find. Glancing down, she noticed the massive amount of blood on her dress and let out an exasperated sigh. She had no other clothing than Mother's and there was no way she could wear these again.

Eleanor looked towards the neighbor's house. A window on the upper floor revealed a bedroom, a girl's judging by the poster of a bare-chested man on the wall, perfect for her purposes. She quickly teleported into the bedroom, appearing at the foot of the bed.

As silently as possible, she began searching the drawers for clothing. She despised having to steal from this family, but from the massive amounts of clothing the drawers contained, she doubted the girl would miss a few. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a pink shirt with embroidered white stars on it. The girl was about her height, but heavier, meaning that the clothing was a little large on her, but perfectly reasonable for the moment.

After teleporting back into the yard, she again generated a fireball in her hand, destroying her old pair of clothes in seconds, leaving nothing but ashes. She wasn't sure what to do next. Her worst fears had been realized; Rapture had come to the surface. She had known that she would one day have to face Rapture again, but she had never realized it would be so soon.

Commotion from the Trace residence snapped her out of her deep thoughts. Swearing, Eleanor teleported herself back into her bed. Just as she materialized, Rory and his mother burst into her room.

"What's wrong!" exclaimed Rory looking around.

"We heard something break up here," chimed in Mrs. Trace.

"Yeah, I think a bat flew into the window," lied Eleanor, pointing toward the broken pane.

Mrs. Trace sighed, walking towards the window.

"Great, one more thing to pay for"

"I'm sorry," Eleanor replied guiltily.

"Don't be dear, it's not your fault, get some sleep" reassured Mrs. Trace, exiting the room.

Rory lingered, looking at the window.

"If a bat flew into the window, shouldn't the glass be on the inside," he observed, giving Eleanor a questioning look.

"I'll talk about it later, I'm tired," answered Eleanor, dodging the question.

Rory acquiesced, backing out, leaving Eleanor by herself. As she lay back, she knew with a certainty that she wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. Tomorrow would mark the beginning of her war with Rapture.


	8. The Man of Two Minds

**(A/N Finally got around to uploading another chapter. Don't forget to review, and I hope you enjoy!)**

Parker watched one of the several large cathode ray tube screens attached to the wall of the diner by a jumbled mass of cables, entrapped by the images flickering across it. Most of the motley gang of physically deformed splicers had stopped working, looking eagerly at the monitor from their positions. Parker knew it should punish them, yell at them to get back to work, but at the moment it didn't care, it was too busy absorbing the significance of every frame.

Parker's scientists had outdone themselves. It had known that in order to find Eleanor and her father, it would need to have accurate, up to date, intel. To that end, they had created a Plasmid that melded biology and electronics, creating a telepathic link to a designated device or person, effectively allowing for commanders to see through the splicer's perspective and for the splicer to receive communications in the field. Each splicer was connected to a screen in the diner, its area segmented like that of a security feed to give a view of several splicers at a time.

The particular splicer on the screen of interest was currently showing had been scouting on the eastern seaboard of the United States until, low and behold, it had spotted Eleanor on a street corner in Boston, talking to a boy. Parker had mentally connected with it instantly in order to better give orders, told it to tail her unseen, and expanded it's viewpoint to fill the screen. The splicer had followed Eleanor through the streets of Boston, staying out of sight, scaling walls and buildings with a practiced ease afforded to it by the metal claws that had been surgically grafted onto its hands, leaving deep gouges in the walls and dislodging loose tiling.

Eleanor and the boy stopped outside of a house and dismounted off the bike they had been riding on and, after a few moments of talking, entered. The splicer, guided by Parker, quickly broke from its cover by an adjacent building and, running on all fours, took shelter in the backyard. Hugging the wall to conceal itself, it looked in through the sliding glass door separating the dining room from the yard. Eleanor walked into the room with the boy, who shortly exited through another door, and introduced herself to the woman standing by the stove.

The splicer felt the bloodlust rising in its chest. It's vision fogged and the voices in its head came to the forefront. _Kill. Kill them all,_ they chorused, blocking out all logical thought. The feelings of rage and lust echoed through the mental channel to Parker, combining with and strengthening its own.

It ached to kill the bitch that had murdered its beloved, to strangle her and watch the horror on her face as the light in her eyes went out, replaced with the vast emptiness that accompanied the end. _No,_ it thought, _I must wait. I must find her Father. She must be made to suffer as I have suffered. Only then, can she feel the cold grip of death._ It rejected the feelings and overcame them, pushing out from the connection, its strength dominating the splicer's weakness as it ordered for the splicer to wait until she was alone.

The splicer acquiesced, standing, invisible, as they ate dinner. A small tan dog with short fur and small collar, jingling as it walked, unaware to the presence of the splicer, wandered through the yard, sniffing at the ground. The splicer, remembering its hunger, reached out, breaking its neck with a decisive snap before it could bark. It dragged the corpse around to the side of the house, out of sight, so it could have a feast of it's own.

After, it buried the remainder of its grisly feast in the lawn and returned to its post. They had finished dinner shortly before it had. It saw Eleanor turn, leave the table, and climb the stairs.

Stealthily, with one leap, it landed on the second story wall, digging into the old tiling with its claws, dislodging several as it scrabbled for a stable hold. It forced the nearest window open and climbed in. The room within was light blue with numerous pictures stuck to the wall. The splicer fluidly closed the window behind itself, crawled across the floor and up the far wall near the door, securing itself to it. It felt its skin crawl as Active Camouflage again took over.

A few moments later, the boy entered the room, followed shortly by Eleanor. The excitement of stalking its prey again flooded its mind, itching to reveal itself until Parker quelled its feelings. Eleanor walked around the room, taking in its features, stopping exactly in front of the splicer.

Excitement instantly turned to mind-numbing fear. The splicer was not prepared to engage a Big Sister without the element of surprise, especially not one as infamous as Eleanor Lamb. She reached out, inches from its nose, until the boy called out and she turned away.

The splicer resisted the urge to release the breath it hadn't realized it had been holding. Eleanor continued talking to the boy, but it tuned out after it became evident that she had not revealed Rapture to the boy and it was unlikely that she would have told him the whereabouts of her Father. Parker, however, listened intently, gathering any information it could.

After a few more moments, the boy exited, leaving Eleanor alone. She crossed to the bed, sitting upon it, looking out the window. As the splicer sensed the opportune moment to strike, the excitement and bloodlust once again mounted in its chest. Seeing the opening as well, Parker mentally sent its approval.

With a snarl, the splicer revealed itself and shot from the wall, claws extended, aiming for her heart. With a seemingly impossible speed, the girl spun to face the splicer, causing him to miss his target and imbed its claws in the right side of her chest. Through the window they went, and the world became a blur and its senses became overwhelmed.

Movement, a blinding pain in its face, and then the sickening feeling of falling assaulted it all at once. Then something pushed it, forcing its claws out of the girl's chest and propelling it downward with an incredible force. Its ADAM enhanced limbs groaned under the stress as it barely managed to reorient itself in time to land on its feet.

It looked up and saw Eleanor above, falling rapidly, poised to strike. _Dodge you fool_, Parker shouted mentally, exhorting the paralyzed splicer into action only moments before the ground where it had previously stood ceased to exist in a large cloud of dust. A moment passed as the two combatants stood sizing each other up. As the splicer stood there, the majority of Eleanor's wounds vanished, along with what little remained of the splicer's confidence.

The splicer snarled and took up a defensive position, attempting to scare her and to distract away from the fact that its trousers were no longer dry. Before it could react further, a small cloud formed in the air around it and an unbearable pain blossomed in his entire upper body. It recoiled, lashing out in an attempt to end the pain. Through its now swollen eyes, it saw Eleanor extend a hand, a small projectile shooting from it. Time contracted into an infinitesimal point as the splicer attempted to dodge out of the way, moving ever so slowly. Suddenly, everything went black, the screen in the diner showing nothing but static.

Filled with uncontrollable rage, Parker screamed out. Every splicer in the parlor cringed as Parker turned, grabbed the nearest table, and tossed it through the bank of television screens, accompanied by dozens of flying sparks and the sound of glass cracking. Parker spun around, staring at the splicers, frozen in mid movement, looks of horror and fear splashed across their faces.

"What are all of you looking at," yelled Parker, its face contorted with rage, "Get out, all of you get out!"

All of the splicers instantly fled, running, crawling, and leaping as fast as they could, none of them wanting to feel their leader's wrath. Parker ignored them, sitting down heavily at the booth. It put its head in its hands and gazed down at the dirt-speckled tabletop, old fliers written upon with intel strewn across the surface.

It had been so close. It had felt the splicer's claws maw Eleanor's flesh; it had reveled in the sensation of the parting skin, the warm blood pouring over the claws.

It attempted to quell the anger in its chest, reasserting its logic and once again gaining control. The mission hadn't been a complete failure. It now knew where she was staying and maybe, just like she was her Father's weakness, this boy it had seen was her weakness. Love had a way of binding one person to another. It was a great chain that bound them together, connecting all of the pieces. Now, it just had to find the weak link and the rest would fall apart.

With new determination, Parker rose from the table, straightening its dirty jacket and tie and smoothing back its oily black hair. It grabbed a soda from off the table, popped the top off using the side, and exited the Fishbowl Diner. It strolled across the avenue, the broken concrete tiling displaced by its scratched black dress shoes grinding along the ground.

Parker walked through a porthole and into the signature glass tubing that comprised many of the walkways of Rapture. It admired the scenery on the outside of the tubing, the dense groupings of coral, schools of fish darting one way or another, perpetually attempting to escape some unseen predator. As it observed this, it smiled.

_Everything dies eventually_, Parker mused. The thought comforted it. Even if it didn't get Eleanor and her Father today, it would get them, someday.

Parker climbed the short flight of stairs leading to the entrance of Sinclair Deluxe Tenements, ignoring the cracks in the tube that sent water spewing inward and down the stairs, flowing like blood from a corpse. Entering through yet another porthole, Parker glanced around. In order to accommodate Parker's growing science department, the place had been cleaned up. Much of the rubble and debris that once littered the main atrium had been cleared. Now, many contraptions lined the walls, lights blinking, steam pumping, making a high pitched whistling sound.

A hunchbacked splicer was standing over a table on the far wall, tinkering with some unseen device. Sensing an intruder, it spun on its heels, revealing a terrible face with open sores on his face. Recognizing Parker, it smiled showing the very few rotten teeth that it still possessed, and waddled over, its once white, torn lab coat dragging across the damp dirty tile flooring.

"Hello again sir, checking our progress again?" the splicer said, bowing, which caused some pus to drip from its face onto the floor. Parker ignored it and replied.

"Yes, we have ascertained the location of the girl, but she is proving to be as much of a challenge as we had expected. I want to know the status of Project Minotaur."

"Certainly sir, right this way." the splicer said turning and beginning to walk up the stairs.

Parker followed listening as the splicer continued to talk.

"The project has been advancing much faster than expected. The bonding process went much more smoothly than anticipated. We also further augmented strength, endurance, and healing abilities with plasmids. It is not, however, as durable as the Sisters. Without Tenenbaum's or Suchong's assistance or notes, we were unable to fully convert it, but we hope that its Herculean strength will compensate. Unfortunately, the side effect of such heavy splicing is severe mental instability. We lost ten lab techs before we were forced to lock it up, and even then we lost an additional eight afterwards."

At this point, the pair had surmounted the stairs, walked through one of the many hallways with peeling wallpaper and molding wood, and turned into what had once been an apartment. Inside, stood a large heavily modified Vita-Chamber. Large amounts of black rubber tubing, originating from both the ceiling and floor connected to the chamber, pumping in various fluids. A tall, bulky figure, easily eight feet in height stood inside, casting an ominous shadow on the floor, its features obscured by the fluids and frosted glass.

Parker stepped forward in order to get a better look, a feeling of awe at this amazing creation seeping into its bones.

"Careful sir," the splicer sniveled, reaching an arm out. "We have reinforced the glass after the last time it got out, but we still have yet to ascertain the full measure if its strength."

Parker simply stood there, back turned towards the splicer, smiling.

"When will it be ready?"

"We still need to test it thoroughly, we have no idea…." The splicer trailed off as Parker turned, smile gone, an icy glare on its face.

"On second thought, we can skip the tests," the splicer amended fearfully, "In that case, it can be ready as soon as tomorrow."

"Excellent," replied Parker once again turning and smiling at the container. Once again his scientists had outdone themselves. Parker would have to remember to make their deaths relatively quick and painless when they inevitably failed him.


	9. School Day

**(A/N: Hey everyone. I know it's been forever since I updated, and I assume most of you thought this story was dead as a doornail. Well, what can I say? College has kept things busy. But I realized recently that I really missed writing and people were still favoriting this, so why not go for another update? Hopefully everyone realizes that I can't promise any regular update schedule, but know that this story isn't dead, just sleeping. I'll keep updating, just as often as I have time and can produce chapters that I am happy with. Thanks for those of you who still actually check this. Keep reviewing and favoriting. You all are awesome.)**

Breakfast was awkward.

Rory's mother had left early for her job at the local factory. Despite that, she had managed to prepare a pile of toast that she had left on the table, accompanied by butter and some raspberry jam that appeared to be homemade and was quite delicious.

Rory kept shooting Eleanor questioning glances from across the small table. Eleanor, on her part, endeavored to keep her mouth full as much as possible to avoid a chance for inquiries. Purposefully avoiding eye contact, she glanced out the sliding glass door into the backyard.

It was shaping up to be a beautiful spring day. The sun had begun to peer out from behind the few clouds in bright blue sky. Clothes hung on the line in the small, fenced-in backyard, swaying in the breeze. A circular patch of dirt, devoid of any grass and about five feet in diameter stood in the center of the lawn, the only trace of last night's altercation. Mercifully, neither of the house's other inhabitants seemed to have noticed the oddity.

Last night's altercation had shaken Eleanor. How had Rapture found her so quickly? She had expected them to come looking for her, but not for them to start spreading across the surface. Rapture was the source of ADAM. For an addict to travel so far from its habit was unthinkable.

This was no random encounter, and that chilled Eleanor to the bone. Even with Lamb gone, someone was still down there, pulling the strings. And this unseen hand was intelligent. It understood the value of keeping Rapture a secret from the surface, sending small groups of splicers to move undetected rather than a frontal assault. While Rapture might be more technologically advanced, all it took was for one nuclear missile to find it's way into the Atlantic for Rapture to cease to exist.

The assault had complicated things somewhat. It was obvious, for the Trace's safety, that she couldn't remain in the house. The longer she stayed here, the more likely one of them was to get hurt. She had to find her own place, although how to do that without any money to speak of was a problem in and of itself.

Not only that, but she had to find Tenenbaum to figure out what Mother had done to her, what the voices in her head meant. And, to top it off, now she had to stop Rapture's encroachment on the surface.

_Wonderful,_ thought Eleanor, _Why can't I be worrying about normal things for a teenage girl, like…. Damn it, I don't even know what teenage girls worry about!_

Rory cleared his throat from across the table, and Eleanor instinctively turned her head to him, gazing questioningly.

"Uh…" began Rory awkwardly, flushing slightly. "I don't want to pry, and I can tell that you don't really want to talk about whatever it was that happened last night, but I just wanted to let you know that, even though we really don't know each other, you can trust me."

He paused, waiting for a reply, but Eleanor said nothing, her face blank, not wanting to betray any information.

"I'm not dense you know," he continued, "I know there's something different about you. God knows it doesn't take much to read the signs. Wearing some sort of diving suit and knocking out a fully-grown man a head taller than you with a single punch? That just screams normal."

And Eleanor could tell that he was telling the truth. She could trust him. He was a decent person, an honest person, someone who would keep his word, transparent to a fault, like Father, so different from the liars and schemers in Rapture.

It would be so easy, to let someone else in, to tell someone else about Rapture, to finally have a person in her life that she could confide in. But no, it was too risky. Just the knowledge would put him in danger. After all the kindness he had shown her, he didn't deserve that as payment.

She smiled sadly, "I'm sorry. After you and your mother were nice enough to take me in for the night, it is ungrateful of me to keep secrets from the two of you. But you can trust me as well, and any secrets that I keep are for your own good."

"But you are right," she said, smiling playfully to cover her anxiety, "I'm no ordinary girl."

Rory blushed at this, turning away. "Uh, we should probably get ready. School starts in half and hour and it's going to take us a bit to get there."

Right. School. That part had slipped Eleanor's mind. She doubted that any surface establishment had much to teach her. She had been tutored by her mother from a young age in philosophy and psychology, and she had supplemented those teachings with her own by disassembling and reassembling various devices she had found throughout Rapture, learning the ins and outs of the advances in biology, chemistry, and electronics that the scientists had made. Still, it didn't hurt to check, and it was one less lie that she would have to tell Mrs. Trace, which would make her feel better.

Rory grabbed his backpack off the front stairs, and walked outside. Eleanor followed him, closing the door behind her with a click. The morning air was slightly chilly, and dew clung to the slightly overgrown grass in the front lawn. The neighborhood was peacefully quiet. Most of the inhabitants had already left for work or school.

Like the Trace's house, most of the neighborhood was in a state of disrepair, with peeling paint, gaps in the roof shoddily patched up with tar, or crooked fence posts. It seemed obvious to Eleanor that most of these buildings belonged to the working class. It wasn't Pauper's Drop, but these buildings had seen better days.

Rory walked over to the old garage, opened the rusted side door with a squeak of the hinges, and retrieved his bike from within. He offered to let her ride on the handlebars, but she declined, preferring to jog briskly beside him while he pedaled lightly, unaware that she probably could have outpaced him regardless of how hard he pedaled.

After winding their way through several more blocks of dilapidated houses, they came upon a fenced-in clearing with a long, three-story building in the center. Composed of brick and stone, with twin spires flanking the large, blue entrance doors, the school appeared to be in better shape than most of the surrounding neighborhoods. Windows lined the exterior, shades shut tight against the morning sun, shielding its inhabitants against the harsh rays. Well-groomed trees and bushes punctuated the well-mown lawn, completing the air of preciseness and order about the place.

Rory dismounted his bike and lead it up the front stairs to a rack to the right of the entrance, where he quickly secured by threading a length of grey iron chain produced from his backpack through both wheels and the frame before securing it with a small combination lock. He walked back, rejoining Eleanor, and both of them walked through the large front doors.

The interior was a flurry of action. Leaf-green lockers flanked both sides of the main hallway that bisected the school, with several smaller hallways branching off on either side. Students went about their day, some bustling through the halls, shoes clicking on the checkered tile floor, while others stood about, sharing the latest pieces of gossip. Motivational posters and signs promoting various extracurricular activities and sports were stuck to the walls, breaking up their monotone white coloring.

With a slight tug on her arm, Rory lead Eleanor away from the main hall and down one of the branching corridors to the office. After a brief lie to the squat, stern woman at the front desk that Eleanor was Rory's cousin from out of town who had come to visit for a while, she was issued a plastic card with the word "Visitor" printed on it that she pinned to the front of her ill-fitting T-shirt.

Classes were about as exciting as Eleanor had predicted. Math was childish. Students worked on calculating the area, volume, and angles of various shapes and figures. Eleanor quickly realized that part of her enhanced reflexes appeared to be enhanced spatial awareness and an intuition for trajectories that allowed her to guess the answer within a small margin of error.

Biology was not only dumbed down to an excessive degree, but the teacher also presented several facts that were undeniably wrong. It appeared that the surface scientists had not yet found out as much about the inner workings of human beings as those in Rapture. Eleanor had though about speaking up, but something made her think that he wouldn't take too kindly to being corrected by a little girl. She spent her time moving the bones on the skeleton in the corner slightly using Telekinesis while reciting them to herself from memory.

While Eleanor had yet to read much literature aside from the various manuals, textbooks, and propaganda leaflets readily available in Rapture, English was surprisingly easy, yet disturbing. Every time a question was presented on a book that she hadn't read, a nagging thought at the back of her head would present the answer.

If she wasn't certain that she had never seen the material, she could have mistaken it as her own memory, but it appeared be another side effect of Mother's attempt to infuse the minds of Rapture into her body through ADAM injections. While helpful, any loss of independence in her mind made her uneasy. The sooner she found the true extent of the effects, the better.

The only subject that held her attention at all was history. While she had done what she could to educate herself after her arrival on the surface, her knowledge of the history of the world after the secession of Rapture was quite incomplete, even with what news she had read. While the teacher presented on the French Revolution, Eleanor flipped through the book, quickly catching up to speed on what she had missed. The end of World War II, the beginning of this so-called Cold War, the fight for racial equality, and the assassination of the surface's last leader, President Kennedy.

It was odd how subjective history was. In these pages, the writers decried the principles of communism and pointed to it as being at fault for many of today's problems, while Eleanor had seen firsthand the evils of a capitalist society. A free economy did not take into account the hungry men, women, and children on the streets any more than communism did. It seemed to Eleanor that strict adherence to either end of the spectrum, regardless of intention, only led to ruin. The best answer seemed to be a moderate approach, somewhere in between.

By lunch, Eleanor had absorbed all that she could from the more than slightly biased book and, with only more irrelevant minutiae waiting for her afterwards, she decided it was her time to leave. Excusing herself to the restroom as Rory walked her to the cafeteria, she climbed out the second story window. Looking both ways to assure that no one was watching, she let herself drop, landing silently crouched on the front lawn.

She felt bad for ditching Rory like that, but she doubted that he would be ok with her just leaving. Besides, it was about time she got to looking for a place to stay for the night. She walked into the city, transitioning from low residential buildings to the tall, looming skyscrapers. She walked past most of the traditional apartment buildings, doubting that they would take her in with a lack of money.

Eleanor headed to the less savory side of town, where graffiti was a normal adornment for the sides of the houses and roofs stopped being made from tile and started being made of whatever had been cheapest at the point of their construction. She hoped to find a project that would let her in with the promise of rent at a later date. As she walked, she passed by a closed off industrial warehouse. Having slept in far worse and deciding that it could be a useful alternative if nothing else was found she decided to investigate.

Tall barbed wire fences enclosed the corrugated steel complex that had long faded from its original color to rust. The padlock to the entrance had been cut off some time after the warehouse's abandonment, and it lay dull and broken on the ground, allowing Eleanor easy access. She found the door similarly unlocked, but so rusted over that she had to push to break the seal and gain entrance.

The interior of the warehouse was lit by a single window on the far side, its panes shattered, the glass littering the floor. Various wooden crates, boxes, and barrels of both wood and metal were stacked high throughout. Shattered beer bottles, cigarette butts, and the occasional needle or condom completed the picture of the place's sordid history.

Eleanor walked through, glancing around at the place. With a little cleaning up, some repairs, and a few air fresheners, maybe this place could be suitable for inhabitance. After all, didn't every superhero need a secret hideout?

A huge fist entered the corner of her vision.

_Fuck_


End file.
